


Fire in the water

by Queenofthefaceless



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 22:00:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29740500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenofthefaceless/pseuds/Queenofthefaceless
Summary: After escaping a bunch of droids, you and Din share an intimate, explosive moment as you tend to his wounds, one that the both of you have craved for for what felt like an eternity.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Kudos: 16





	Fire in the water

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: mentions of wounds and scars!!! Otherwise fluff + smut (oral sex [both receiving], cockwarming, multiple orgasms + a kinda clueless but accidentally rough Din because… reasons)

Din was utterly exhausted and his entire body was aching. He had been struggling to stitch the newly acquired cuts on his upper body half for the past half hour or so and he had only managed to become more and more frustrated.

He finally threw the cutter on the floor, looking for his shirt.

“Din?”

His heart fluttered the second he registered your soft voice.

He hesitated to turn around, though he was awfully self-conscious regarding his exposed and downright brutalized upper body, the scars his skin carried with an unusually vast pride and pain alike prominent in that lightning.

Your gaze lingered only for a brief moment on his back, noticing more of the multitude of scars, some still bleeding and clearly not cleaned properly rather than the beautiful melanin of his skin and his back muscles, tensed in your presence and under your eyes.

“What are you doing?” you asked, picking the cutter from the floor.

Din held his breath, gulping soon after.

“I was… I tried to… burn some scars and… wounds.”

“Some of these haven’t… properly healed…”

Din felt as if he was meant to apologize for not taking better care of himself, although nothing from your tone or your body language suggested he should do so.

It simply appeared to be the way Din felt around you, always flustered and insecure about anything and everything.

“Yeah, I’m - I’m not good with this kind of stuff.”

“I can see that,” you giggled.

He heard you moving closer, and his entire body stiffened up. He couldn’t help it. Nor could he fight it much. So he kept holding his breath while he felt you roaming around him, seemingly gathering different objects in his vicinity.

“Can I?” you breathed near his earlobe, making him shiver with an unknown forbidden pleasure.

He then realized that you were asking for his permission to deal with his injuries, and he empty-headedly nodded in approval, unable to see you, but perfectly capable of feeling your fingertips against his back, lightly stroking his skin and tending to his wounds with a tenderness that almost shook him to the core.

His muscle memory provided him with no recollection of ever feeling another touch softer, more careful or so affectionate and sweet, truth be told.

“You should be more careful with how you treat these,” you muttered. “They could get badly infected and the repercussions would be terrible.”

“I don’t really have the time or the skills to sit and soak all day in - “

He cut the sentence short, already cussing at himself at how uptight and commanding he sounded when he _less_ wanted to be. But knowing you pretty well by then, he trusted that you wouldn’t have thought of his words that way.

 _Or would they?_ his doubt made him reconsider.

_Dank farrik._

_Dank farrik, what if they think I’m just a grumpy old bag of -_

“I could teach you how to properly treat wounds if you want,” you interrupted his inner panic attack. “It’s no big deal and it saves you both time and pain in the future.”

“That would be very nice.”

 _Kriff. I sound like a broken droid. Worse,_ Din thought exasperated.

“Did you practice stitching wounds on yourself?” he asked and immediately realized how silly he must have sounded.

_Mother of Moons, am I an idiot! Can’t I just speak kriffing normally??_

To his ease, you only giggled, barely audible.

“Actually, yes, I did. Nobody cares when you’re hurt and in pain, especially not when you’re all alone, so you have to deal with it yourself.”

“I was dealing with it just fine.”

“And I suppose that’s why so many of these stab wounds and cuts were still open and throbbing and nearly infected?”

Din said nothing in return, feeling like a scolded child. He fleetingly thought if that was how Grogu felt whenever he would scold him for something.

“Are you feeling anything?”

Din went silent again, fearful of the first answer which popped into his head.

Oh, he surely felt something. He had for weeks, even months, from the first moment he had laid his eyes on you, to the moment he had finally said it out loud to you, this solidifying it.

Now, however, feeling the light brush of your fingertips against his scarred back, your warm breath on his neck, it all conspired to set his entire body on fire, the heat practically burning him from inside out.

He exhaled, unaware of how much time had passed since he had began holding his breath, and turned his head slightly, only to catch a glimpse of your luscious locks almost in contact with his left shoulder. The closeness made him tremble, afire.

“Are you in any pain, Din?” you rephrased your question, increasingly concerned.

“No,” he managed to mutter at last, an intense burning sensation spreading to his thighs and groin.

“Good. I’m done.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“Not a problem.”

He still didn’t turn around completely. Instead, he sat there awkwardly, listening to the little movements you did as you placed everything back to where it was.

“Your fear of small spaces… is it from your fighting days?”

He cussed himself again after posing the question, but he knew it was too late for a retraction.

Luckily, you replied first with a bitter smile as you sat next to him, fighting an almost losing battle with yourself to not gaze shamelessly at the shirtless Mandalorian.

“Yes,” you answered, voice shaky now. “I had to hunt down a lot of criminals and thieves which seemed to have this bizarre fixation for enclosed spaces. Makes sense if you think from their point of view, I suppose. And naturally, since none of them want to be captured and executed, I had to crawl my way out of a lot of those after they had trapped me in them. Gradually, it took its toll on me. I thought I was doing better at handling it but… maybe I am not.”

“You did great today.”

You met Din’s soft, brown eyes and you unconsciously parted your lips upon seeing his full face again. It was a sight you had truly been blessed with, yet it seemed as if you would not get tired of it any time soon - or rather ever.

“Thank you for the kind lie,” you smiled in hopes of hiding how overwhelmed you felt by his mere presence, especially in that state.

“It wasn’t a lie. You really did great. You - you fight good.”

In an act of surprising kindness, Din reached out for your hand and caressed it lightly, making your heart race with an alarmingly high speed and causing your face to flush.

“Thank you,” you whispered in a shaky voice.

“Y/N… there was… something that I wanted to do today.”

Din’s mouth ran the words without any approval from his mind, but he refused to stop himself this time. He finally felt the time was right, and he was a man of action rather than of words, after all. 

“What was it?”

The stares that you two shared were like nothing either one of you had lived through before. Din’s eyes were filled with desire and a sentiment he couldn’t quite place yet, but his entire body ached, this time from something else entirely.

Din Djarin burned for you, all the time, and achingly so.

“I wanted to do this… for quite some time, actually,” he continued, his throat dry.

His tongue moistened his bottom lip ever so little, but plenty for you to notice and to gulp in anticipation of something you yourself could not understand completely.

You were speechless next to him as the light of the fire burning in the hearth reflected on his skin, and all that your mind could do was race wildly alongside your heartbeat with tantalizing scenarios and hopes inside of it.

You licked your lips as well, all the while staring at him, longing and craving for more, for any touch of any sort to occur.

“What was it that you wanted to do, Din?” you asked him, face now closer to his.

Your eyes had moved down to gaze lustfully at his lips, neck and chest, your skin catching on fire from that bare mundane gesture.

It seemed his eyes were doing the same gesture of gazing dreamily and hungrily at your lips as he drew his face closer to yours until your foreheads met. 

He parted his lips to allow a few words to escape incoherently, but instead, he pressed his mouth on yours, letting out an accidental soft moan at that very first contact.

Din’s voice and his humming reverberated throughout your body and it was your cue to move closer to him and permit him full access to your mouth. His tongue clumsily but daringly darted inside your mouth, waltzing with yours in a dirty, passionate fashion. You pulled him in, your palms cupping his cheeks mid-kiss, thus earning a second moan from him.

You then realized he was already very weakened by the moment. You felt incredibly flattered, but _oh_ , the afire craving you carried for that man, for that intensity you could now share… it was nothing if entirely _consuming_.

His hands were roaming nervously at the hem of your fitted shirt, unsure as to what he was ought to do next, and the fact that he felt your hands pressed against his chest was not much aid either.

He began to feel dizzy, consumed entirely by your warmth, your touches and every inch of your being, so much so that sometime within the next few seconds he found himself trapped beneath you, with you straddling his lap, your locks falling in little cascades over your face, and from beneath them, a coy and yet shy smile that made him smile even wider.

“Your scars,” you reminded him gently, though still breathless.

It was only then that Din felt something else but raw desire and mind-boggling ecstasy and he stood up halfway, only straddling you onto his lap.

He took a moment to admire your face and nothing more, his index tracing your jawline agonizingly slow. You felt goosebumps at his every move and you couldn’t help but gasp as you finally could admire him as he truly was, complete and undone before you.

Eye contact in full effect still, Din removed his gloves and placed his now bare hands on your hips. You couldn’t help but gasp at the light and somewhat tight grip, your mouth ajar for what was about to come.

You could see in Din’s hesitant looks that he was much too curious and anxious, as well as puzzled about the exact whereabouts of the intimate moment to fully take control. So you cupped his cheeks tenderly and pulled his face closer to yours, linking your forehead with his, hearing him huff softly, breath unsteady just as he was.

“Din,” you whispered.

“Hmm?” he hummed, unable to provide anything more verbally.

“Can I… can I take off your armor?”

The question threw Din off. He had never expected it, nor had he pictured it happening in any scenarios, much less to be potentially done by someone else. His full armor was his entire identity, his entire persona, and removing it completely in front of someone meant stripping him off of everything he had and everything he was.

It meant becoming vulnerable and exposed to someone else.

But that someone was you, his confident, his partner.

His eyes carried the type of restraint that could easily be misinterpreted as a definitive no, but the moment he began to remove the beskar from his body, you realized the true and huge impact of what you had asked him. You realized that this was Din’s ultimate and final step into accepting his real self.

You watched mesmerized as each beskar part came off, until there was nothing but linen clothing to cover him. Timidly yet eagerly at the same time, you worked with your fingers against said clothing and helped Din remove them as well, stifling a gasp as he was, at last, left the way the Maker had intended to. His skin was bronze, taut and well-defined, but covered in more scars, undoubtedly the result of his many years of hunting and training.

Just as timidly and equally curious, Din’s large and rough hands tugged at the hem of your own clothes, taking them off one by one, slowly. He was bedazzled to see scars on your chest and arms, too, the feeling of pain locked in his mind. His face betrayed the same feeling, perhaps, but he did not hide it.

You smiled as some sort of reply to his unvoiced thoughts, and watched him admire your nakedness with pure and wide eyes.

Feeling overwhelmed and consumed by desires he hadn’t even been aware that existed, let alone that he carried, he rushed to kiss you again, this time more secure in the whereabouts of your mouth. His tongue darted in and you allowed it unquestionably, hands roaming aimlessly and furiously around each other all the while.

One of your hands was entangled in his messy hair, playing with a few of his locks, and Din found himself murmuring something undecipherable into the kiss, as if demanding for more. The kiss deepened without either your realization and Din pressed your body against his, the skin on skin contact burning him alive and sending shivers down his spine, all the way to his groin.

He now laid on top of you, kissing your jaw, neck, moving down on your chest, your stomach and, as he got lower, he noticed with pleasant surprise how easily you spread your legs to allow him more access.

Without putting much thought into it, Din sunk his head and began to kiss and lick against your most sensitive area, enjoying the sounds that you were letting out. Both your hands tugged at his hair, your moans increasing with each extra movement that his tongue did, nearly turning into cries of joy and pleasure.

“Din - Din - _oh m-my_ \- ”

Your heart rate had increased dramatically just as your gasps and moans; you threw your head back, body filled with an almost too lustful ecstasy. Your hips naturally jerked up front, desperate for more contact with his mouth. Din was living in the moment just as much: he loved what he was hearing and he was feeling, more so because it was him, out of all the potential other people, who was making you feel and sound that way.

He felt himself get harder the more he went on, and you downright pulling his hair was far more enticing than he would’ve expected.

“Please - please don’t stop - please - D-Din - ”

You moaned particularly loud and Din felt your legs shake as he held you in place, wondering if something was wrong. He lifted his head, lips smeared with your juices, and looked at your beautifully stretched body, examining your face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

You recuperated your breath before you smiled and dared to speak.

“Yes,” you said, almost unable to believe. “Oh - Din… how did you - how did you think to do that? What - ”

“Was it not - okay? Was it -?”

“It was… amazing. Oh, Maker… oh, it was _amazing_.”

Din smiled with relief, unconsciously licking his lips and feeling your taste lingering on his taste buds. He huffed.

“You taste very good,” he remarked.

Taken aback by the confession and the somewhat indecent phrase, your face reddened within seconds.

“I can show you how amazing it felt,” you whispered to him, standing upwards.

Baffled, Din furrowed his brows and watched in awe as you laid low to his now fully erected cock, pulsing with arousal to the point of near pain. You licked his length up and down, twice, and slowly, and Din felt like he could explode solely from that.

He grunted, insatiably turned on, and watched you wrap your mouth around him, moving forward and back several times. He closed his eyes, mouth open as a string of moans and below his breath curses left his tongue, unable to think or say anything. The motions you were making were indeed beyond pleasurable. They were simply _intoxicating_. He could only grunt your name, again and again, making it seem like it was the only word he knew, and he moaned louder when you wrapped a hand around the remainder of his cock, stroking it gently.

That explosive feeling arrived at last. He felt his insides burn and his legs shake in a delicious agony, white ropes of his seed spilling over your jaw and chest and the floor. The feeling of relief had caught him unexpectedly and it was like absolutely nothing he had ever felt, or like nothing he could have imagined. When he managed to catch his breath, he felt ashamed for some reason but, upon kissing you again and tasting himself into your mouth, all else was forgotten.

He wanted to feel that relief, that ecstasy again, so he hovered above you, placing kisses along your neck again, and positioned himself at your entrance. Feeling more confident in himself, Din guided one hand to his cock, gently teasing at your swollen hole, hearing you gasp loudly. When he made eye contact with you, he could tell an agreement and urge were hiding behind your eyes, so he dared pushed himself into you, slowly.

You grabbed him by his shoulders, moaning with each additional inch that Din added of his generous length, stretching you bit by bit. The feeling was unmatched: the warmth, the intimacy, that mere act of uniting with you like that.

When he was finally fully within you, he made no move. He quickly discovered that he loved the feeling of being buried balls deep inside of you.

“Din - ”

You wanted to ask him for something, for a movement of any sort, but you felt too weak and too much on a high to ask for anything in verbal form. So you reached out to kiss him again, pulling him closer to you, your nails caressing his back and once again sending shivers down his spine, determining him to move at last.

He made his first thrust, unbearably slow, then pushed himself out and back in, intently following your facial expressions. When he felt he had the space and courage to go on, he thrust again, this time deeper, and earned a particularly loud moan from you.

“Is that okay?” he asked, now moving a bit faster.

“Yes,” you moaned, your body moving alongside his. “Can you - can you do that - ag-gain?”

Din understood, and made his thrust a little faster, but a whole lot deeper. You gasped out loud, a smile breaking from your lips, and it flattered Din without fail, almost encouraging him to go further.

He linked his forehead with yours and continued to thrust in and out of you, his cock practically throbbing whilst in you, touching your walls, stretching you out and hitting spots that had been undiscovered until then.

You reached for his lips for another kiss, this one much sloppier and rushed; your hands were now residing in his hair, carefully tugging at it every once in a while, and the gesture enticed Din to an almost cocky degree.

“Din - m-move - f-faster - please - “you begged, wrapping your arms around his neck.

Grunting, Din did as he was asked and began to fuck you faster, doing his best to ensure that he was hitting you deeper inside like he did before. He observed, in a trance, the way your body moved with the rhythm he had established, spurring him on. The faster he moved, the faster he collided his hips against yours, the more he felt that burning sensation again, the intense feeling of relief returning to him.

He grabbed one of your thighs and placed it around his hips, thus having a better angle, and you moaned louder, sign that it was a great feeling for you as well.

Din continued to move in you, beads of sweat protruding at his temples, neck and sturdy arms. Soon, his cock twitched, getting its sweet release and making him groan noisily, his thrusts barely slowing down. His body convulsed under the power of his pleasure and, upon feeling your walls suddenly tightening around his cock, he dared not slow down.

He was rewarded with a big moan from you as you got your own release, nails digging this time into his flesh, unable to contain yourself. The feeling was blinding, haunting and the most intense and wonderful one either one of you had ever felt.

Din slowed down his thrusts, only moving deeper inside, his face now buried in the crook of your neck, taking the time to simply feel your every move, hear your every sound and see every feature.

"Din - ”

There was nothing else but his name spoken in a soft, desirable whisper. He eventually stopped altogether, but remained within you, not ready to let the feeling go.

"How was that?“ he asked, completely breathless and fucked out.

You caressed his hair and his back, your thigh still wrapped around his waist.

"Incredible,” you responded sometime.

“We should do this more often.”

You chuckled, though you had the feeling that Din was not entirely joking, or at all, really. You searched for his face and kissed him sweetly with a smile.

“We should,” you agreed.


End file.
